Oystercatcher Tide Pools of vagabonds and hermits

Omg I'm so sorry I forgot about this. <3

The water was where Constantine had the most success in terms of hunting, and so it was the by the water the wolf stayed. His form was thinning – the shine of his dark pelt had long lost its sheen, and the gauntness that pulled at his skin was the perfect tale of what was slowly happening to the youthful wolf – he was starving.
 
His strides were slow because of this, his intent purposeful. The teasing scent of salt did little to stir vigor to him now, as it had done before, and his fiery eyes were becoming more sallow. Still, he was not one to simply give up, and so the Mayfair wolf trailed along the shores of the coast, his journey quiet.
 
His intent was to lay claim to a fish – perhaps one he would selfishly take for himself, as his body so desperately needed at this point. It was the sight of the paler wolf not far that drew him closer – these were dangerous times, but with the other coming upward with a possession within his jaws, Constantine could not suppress himself from spurning forward more carefully. His form was neutral, his gaze wary – announcing himself with a soft bark, the dark male studied the other – wondering if there was room for two at the tide pools.